The Adventure of Hobbits
by Airealataiel
Summary: Hobbity goodness that might contain some fluffy slash. Sure to include other Fellowship members later in story


Four slightly famous hobbits to rested in Mr. Baggins' very cozy little hole under the hill. Frodo Baggins the Nine-fingered Hobbit Wonder lounged in a chair with his overly large and hairy feet resting on the table. Next to him sat Samwise the Fat, leaning steadily backward and forward and backward and forward on a hand-made rocking chair. Across the table sat Merry the Mischievous and Pippin the Pokey, both of whom reclined in large squishy armchairs with their hairy feet lying on the table as well. They had just finished their evening meal and had sat back to smoke their pipes lazily when there came a knock upon the door. They were all reluctant to get up.

"You should get it Nine Fingers," Merry said loudly. "I mean, it _is_ your house."

"Well I don't think I should have to, Mr. Brandybuck," complained Frodo. "I just got back from a very exhausting adventure myself, thank you. Doesn't a hero ever get any peace and quiet now and then?"

"Well I say Sam over there should get the door, being as he is Frodo's servant," Pippin chimed in cheerfully. Sam glared at Pippin from across the table. All four hobbits broke out in speech at the same time and soon the room became extremely loud with everyone trying to shout over the next loudest. Only when they heard another faint knock did they stop arguing, and the new silence was almost alien to them. 

"Who's there?" Frodo shouted, still unwilling to get out of his very comfortable chair. There was no response. "Who's there?" he repeated, beginning to get worried. It had taken him a long time to get reused to some of the mysterious behaviors of the world since he got back from his long journey to destroy the Ring, and much of it he still didn't like. He began to sweat, but soon Sam saw the startled look on his face.

"Don't worry Mr. Frodo. I'll get it," said Sam reassuringly, and he lifted his fat bottom from the chair and scurried to the entrance hallway. There was a sharp intake of breath from the three hobbits remaining sitting in the lounge when the door squeaked open and Sam said, "Hello, sir?"

There was a long pause in which all hobbits held their breath, but finally a low, rattling voice could be heard replying, "Is this the house of Baggins?" 

"Indeed it is, sir," said Sam brightly, "but what causes you to disturb the master at such a late hour?"

This time the rattling voice replied a lot quicker, a hint of panic in its voice. "You must let me in. I have news for the Nine-fingered Hobbit Wonder."

"Sam, let him in!" Frodo shouted from his spot. They heard Sam offer to take the stranger's cloak and walking stick. He agreed and gave them to Sam kindly. As they heard Sam's pattering footsteps as he guided the stranger down the hall, Frodo hissed to Pippin, "Quickly, quickly, make him a place to sit! Merry, put a fresh kettle on the fire! And be hasty!" The two hobbits hustled and bustled around the small, fire-lit room, which had grown quite stuffy. Frodo busied himself with clearing the table and brining out a clean set of plates and teacups, muffins, cookies, butter and other small delicacies. 

Only seconds after Merry, Pippin and Frodo sat down, red faced and huffing, Sam appeared around the corner, the stranger following closely behind. He was a tall man, certainly not of hobbit kind. His face was tanned from working out in the sun all day. He was dirty and ruffled; his hair was in a mess, his face was caked with dirt, and his palms were covered with calluses. Age made itself present in his wrinkles and graying hair and long beard, his stiff creaking joints and the bent posture with which he held himself. However, in his eyes was not only age, but experience and wisdom too.

Merry and Pippin hopped onto their feet at once and scurried over to Frodo's side so as to provide sitting space in the recliners for the elderly man. He had to bend his head to get through the doorway and could still not stand straightly when he entered the room, so he chose to take a seat in the left chair. Sam, Merry and Pippin all sat down in a row on the bench by the fire. With an awkward silence, all four hobbits stared curiously at the stranger, who seemed oddly out of place in the tiny hobbit hole. After a long moment, he chose to start the conversation. 

"I suppose it's you then, you sitting in the chair. I suppose you're Master Baggins?" Frodo, who could not find his voice, nodded slowly. The old man continued. "I'm afraid I have some terrible news for you Mr. Baggins." He waited and watched with satisfaction as apprehension dawned on the face of each small creature, but none, yet, had said a word. "It is my awful duty to explain to you that you must go…"

"I'm not going anywhere!" said Frodo defiantly. He definitely seemed to have found his voice. "I've just gotten home from a long, long journey. And the most horrible, terrifying journey one can go on. I'm not going anywhere!" And he crossed his arms in resolution.

"I am not telling you that you have to go anywhere, but I suggest you hear me out, because you might just change your mind." At this Frodo huffed and puffed and grumbled something inaudible under his breath, but waved a hand angrily, inviting the odd man to continue. "It seems that a friend of yours is in grave danger. A friend that maybe you have forgotten. This friend needs your help, for he is lost in a different world, and he is ever begging for your help. You must save him. You must."

"And, and who is this someone?" Frodo asked quietly.

"Mr. Bear," said the man. And then, without any warning at all, he disappeared from sight. Not in a cloud of smoke or a sparkling dust, he just…disappeared. Vanished. Became invisible. Sam went to check the hall for his cloak and walking stick, but his return report of "Nothing there, Mr. Frodo," was not reassuring. 

Frodo grumbled and groaned, but finally he stood up. "Come Merry. Pippin. Sam. We must go on the quest to save Mr. Bear." He grumbled and complained some more as he and the other three hobbits gathered some things in sacks. Finally, about an hour later, the four of them pulled on their cloaks, shut the door behind them, and locked it. "Silly quests. Send me off on my feet as soon as I get home. Mr. Bear better be in lots of trouble," said Frodo to himself under his breath. 

"But where are we going? How do we know what to do?" Pippin complained loudly. "We just got home!"

"We are going to Brea, where we will get ponies. From there we will ride to Gondor and ask of the help of Aragorn. We will need his help if we want to find Gandalf."

"We were just _in_ Gondor!" Merry whined. "And it's such a _long_ ride!"

"What does this have to do with _Gandalf_?" asked Sam angrily.

"Gandalf will know what to do," explained Frodo.

"_Must_ we do this?" Pippin asked almost painfully. "It's cold and my feet _hurt_. We've only _just_ finished our long quest a month ago! What makes you need to go out on a journey so _soon_? We thought _you_, of all people, would never want to leave home again! I don't _want_ to go anywhere! I'm _turning around_!" Pippin was out of his mind with anger.

"Me too!" Merry commented, turning his back. 

"I'm with you wherever you go, Mr. Frodo, even if it's the last thing I want to do."

"This isn't FAIR!" Pippin screamed, turning to face Frodo again. "We've been through WAR! We've been through DEATH! Wandering and painful sores on our feet. Back aches and freezing winds. Heart throbs and homesickness. Tiredness and horrors. Constant danger and life threatening situations. Monsters, enemies and allies. Unknown paths and darkness. I can't take this anymore!" Pippin, by now, was practically in tears. "What is wrong with your head!? We've JUST gotten back from all of this horror! Why would you EVER want to go on another adventure?" Merry wrapped his arm around Pippin's shoulder. 

"There, there Pippin," said Merry soothingly, "it's alright. We'll just go back up to Bag End and have a nice cup of tea. We'll warm and soak our warm feet and eat sweets and smoke pipes and wait for Mr. Frodo to return from this silly journey." Pippin stopped his blubbering and looked up at Merry with watery eyes. 

"Really?"

"Really," replied Merry quietly. Pippin smiled and Sam gazed from Merry and Pippin to Frodo and back several times.

"Mr. Frodo," Sam started, "I really don't want to do this Mr. Frodo. I don't want to leave you, but I have to agree with Pippin." Frodo scowled.

"Shall we wait then? Shall we wait for Mr. Bear to be ripped to shreds then?" he asked angrily.

"WHO THE HECK IS MR. BEAR!?" Merry, Pippin and Sam shouted simultaneously. "AND WHY DOES HIS EXISTENCE MATTER MORE THAN OUR WELL BEING!?" 

"Because Mr. Bear is my oldest teddy bear; the one that always protected us when we were little hobbits. And now I must return the favor! So are you with me or not?"

"_Mr. _Bear?" asked Sam in awe. 

"_THE_ Mr. Bear?" Pippin asked tearfully.

"Yes _THE_ Mr. Bear!" Frodo shouted impatiently. "So are you coming or not?"

"Yes, we're coming," Merry stated. With a smile, Frodo led them on.


End file.
